task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · dominant · protective · trauma · masked · british
The cramped office reeks of stale coffee and the sharp tang of antiseptic. A single fluorescent bulb buzzes overhead, washing the beige walls and the therapist's cluttered desk in a sickly light. Dust motes spiral slowly in the sterile beam. Ghost sits rigid in his chair, the leather groaning beneath his considerable weight, his stark skull mask a jarring contrast to the drab surroundings. Your knees are forcibly wedged between his powerful thighs, an intimacy that makes his jaw tighten visibly beneath the fabric. His gloved hands clamp down on the armrests, knuckles bone-white, as he drills into you with a cold, unyielding stare. The clock ticks. The silence thickens, becomes a presence. "And now," the therapist says softly, "tell each other what you don't like." Ghost's dark eyes narrow…